


Small Wonder

by ishtarelisheba



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, I'm so sorry, Ish promptathon, Microphilia, Shrinking, is apparently what this fetish is called, this is obscene and weirdly kinky, tiny Belle, tiny!belle
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2018-10-08 00:58:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10374249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ishtarelisheba/pseuds/ishtarelisheba
Summary: One of Rumpelstiltskin's rivals enters the Dark Castle in his absence and curses Belle with a shrinking spell. He finds himself no less under his little - very little - maid's thumb, and of course nature chooses their ridiculous situation as a time to take its course with the two of them.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt - _shipperqueen93 said: Porn! Lots of porn! Tiny Belle or Tiny Rumple welcome!_

“Rumpel!” Belle called, cupping her hands around her mouth in an attempt to make her voice louder. “Rumpelstiltskin!”

She stamped her foot on the great room carpet. It didn’t make a sound, and that frustrated her further. She couldn’t even throw a proper tantrum like this!

She made the trip across the room to the hearth, feeling a bit chilled from the floor. It suddenly occurred to her that Rumpel might not come home tonight. What if his deal was one of those longer affairs that took days? What would she do? She didn’t know if she could get to the larder to eat - and she was certain that she couldn’t get to her room. The stairs would be impossible.

“Rumpelstiltskin!” she called again, frantic. What if she starved to death because she couldn’t get to any food?

“Belle?”

She whirled around while the deep red smoke of his magic was still clearing, stumbling and falling to her knees when her shoe caught in the space between two flagstones. “I’m down here!”

He frowned as he looking around. “...Belle?” he said, hesitating. “Where are you?”

 _“Rumpel!”_ she yelled as loudly as she could. 

She groaned in relief when he finally walked toward her. The click of his boots on the stone seemed impossibly loud as he approached the hearth.

“What in seven hells have you done?” he asked as he squatted down to scowl at her. “You went into my tower, didn’t you?”

“I did not!” she said, slapping the floor in front of her. “I don’t go into your laboratory without permission since the giant spider incident.”

“What happened, then? You haven’t any fairy in your family tree, do you?” he asked suspiciously.

“Regina came back,” Belle explained, slumping the rest of the way down. “She said she had a message for you, and she blew some sort of- of purple powder into my face, and she floated out again. I didn’t realize I was getting smaller until she was gone.”

His scowl deepened. “I see.”

“It wasn’t my fault! I didn’t know what she-”

“I know. Worry you not. I understand what’s happened.”

Rumpel’s expression softened and he reached down, carefully scooping her up into one hand. He moved so slowly as he did, he was so gentle, and she was _so_ relieved that he was home and could at last do something to fix the entire situation that she burst into tears.

He didn’t know what to do. A crying Belle was difficult enough to deal with, but a _six inch tall_ crying Belle? He floundered, doing the only thing that came to mind. He pulled the black silk handkerchief from his sleeve and offered it to her. 

She looked up at him a bit strangely, but she took the handkerchief as he draped it over his hand next to her, wiping her face with one corner of it.

“Can you fix me?” she asked once her tears had tapered off.

“Of course I can,” Rumpel said. “It will take some work, but I can. I will.”

“What do you mean, ‘some work’?”

“I don’t know offhand what might reverse it. Different shrinking spells require different methods of reversal. If I tried the wrong one, it could prove disastrous.”

Belle blotted at her eyes. “How disastrous?”

“Anything from turning one into a giant instead to… turning one inside-out.” He cringed at the very thought.

“Yes, let’s not turn me inside-out, please. Take your time, figure it out. As long as you do plan to fix me.”

“I would much rather have you underfoot at your normal size. For one, you’re far more difficult to step on,” he quipped.

To Rumple’s credit, he did work tirelessly. If he wasn’t researching in his tower room, he was looking in on her to make certain that she was all right.

Rumpel conjured furnishings and conveniences custom to her size as it became apparent that they were needed. Within a few days, one end of the great hall dining table had been transformed into a tiny living area for her. He’d made only a single joke about conjuring up an entire dollhouse. Her half a day’s worth of silent treatment had put an end to that.

The only thing she truly missed was her library. She wouldn’t allow him to potentially ruin any of her books by shrinking them down for her, but reading a book of normal size was impossible. She hadn’t gone so long without reading since her mother had taught her how. 

Rumpelstiltskin noticed his little (and wasn’t that an ever more fitting descriptor) maid’s misery. He began taking her up to the tower with him, bringing along the petite chaise he’d conjured for her and setting it on his work table with a chalk circle drawn around and a warning not to venture outside of it. He worked with dangerous and volatile ingredients. There was no telling what might complicate her condition.

He’d hoped that the company might alleviate the boredom that stemmed from her inability to wander the castle or to do very much, but he should have known that his was poor company, indeed. Still she seemed so melancholy.

She had been stuck in her smaller state for a week when he asked for perhaps the hundredth time, “Belle, what can I do? What would make you happy?”

“Make me big again,” she said - and it was the same answer she’d given each time he asked, as well.

He leaned his arms on the work table beside her chaise, bringing his head nearer her level. “I’m working as hard and as quickly as I can.”

“I know you are, Rumpel.” She gave him a noble attempt at a smile and sat up, swinging her feet over the edge of her seat. “Perhaps if…” she began, but her words trailed off and she chewed at her lower lip, looking down at the thick chalk line.

“What?” he asked, and the unwise promise came out of his mouth before he could stop it. “Anything.”

“I miss reading.” He had admonished her often for reading when she ought to be working, but it wasn’t as though she could dust and mop like _this._ “Would you read to me? Not now - I don’t mean now. When you’ve finished working for the day. Or after dinner, perhaps?”

“That sounds like a fine idea.” A smile curled in one corner of his mouth and his eyes softened, crinkles forming between the scales at their outside. “Only tell me which book to fetch, and I shall read to your heart’s content.”

After dinner, Rumpel made good on his word, and he brought The Knight and His Lady down from where she’d left it on the chaise in her library. He carried her to the armchair before the fire. There were a few awkward minutes as they decided just how to go about sitting. Giving up pretense of propriety out of a need for comfort and contact, Belle asked him to sit and place her on the chair arm. She took off her shoes and stockings, as she couldn’t find enough traction to scale his waistcoat with them on, and climbed up to his shoulder to sit. 

Rumpel gave her a sidelong look after having a peek at the book’s frontispiece - a pretty illustration of aforementioned knight and his lady love in a passionate embrace - making it clear that he was dubious of the readability of such a novel. As soon as he got to the part wherein Sir Thomas was captured by marauding pirates and Lady Vivian had to rescue him, she could plainly see that Rumpel had become invested in the story. 

Belle pulled waves of his hair over to hide her face as he approached the steamy scenes just after Lady Vivian rescued her knight and a handful of other people from being burned alive in a barn by their captors. She could _feel_ the heat coming off Rumpel’s flushed cheeks as he stammered his way through the love scene. She pressed his soft hair to her mouth to muffle her increasingly heavy breathing, hoping that he couldn’t hear, and did her very best not to squirm too much. 

After the frankly quite arousing chapter of her book was finished, he read one more that detailed how the people that the Lady had saved made their way back to her own home kingdom. It was a bit boring. That particular chapter always had been, and half of the time, though she would never admit it aloud, she barely skimmed it. The day weighed on her, and she felt her eyelids growing heavy. Rumpel was warm, and he smelled so nice, and his voice was so pleasant to her ears… Quietly, she climbed over the high collar of his waistcoat and snuggled right in against his neck, curling up and letting her eyes drift shut.

“Belle?” Rumpelstiltskin whispered after a while. “Are you- you’ve not fallen asleep there, have you?”

He received no response, and he had to assume that was his answer. He hated to disturb her. After very little indecision, he slid the book down between his leg and the side of the chair, leaned his head against the back of it, and closed his eyes. 

Belle woke to the feeling of being gently jostled. She sat up, readying to apologize for falling asleep in the middle of being read to. It took only a second for her to realize that Rumpel had fallen asleep, as well. His head leaned toward her, his cheek turned to nearly touch the stiff fabric of his collar. She smiled, reaching up to pet the curve of his jaw. Her hand stopped before it met his skin, though.

He shifted, groaning, and she understood then what had awakened her. He was dreaming. Belle peered from between his collar and cheek, craning her neck to look as one of his hands moved to his lap. She watched as he palmed himself in his sleep, his hand rubbing against his groin. His mouth fell open with a soft pant.

 _Oh,_ it was one of _those_ sorts of dreams. 

She wondered what she should do. She couldn’t very well wake him. That would be embarrassing for all parties involved, and she didn’t want to send him scurrying back into the shell she’d worked so diligently to draw him out of. She would simply have to wait. Let him finish, if that’s what was going to happen. 

She sat back down, pulling his hair in front of her again, and waited quietly. She could feel a slight sway as his hand rubbed. The motion paired with knowing what he was doing forced her to stifle a giggle.

“Belle…” he breathed in his sleep.

Her eyes went wide with surprise, and her heart thumped. He was dreaming about _her?_

The thought gave her a tingle. One of those tingles that she entertained on a regular basis in private, but that she somehow hadn’t assumed that he felt, himself. Of course he did. Most people did, in some manner or other. But she would never - _never_ \- have imagined that he had thoughts of her in such a way.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she took what bravery she had and scooted forward, letting herself slip down until her feet found the neck of his waistcoat near his collarbone. She held onto it with her toes, grasping hold of the flimsy silk of his shirt with her hands, and stretched up to kiss his lower lip.

She could have sworn that she saw some odd bit of shimmering as she leaned back and opened her eyes. She could have _sworn_ that she saw a hint of pink in his lips just where she’d kissed him, but perhaps her eyes had played some trick on her, because when she looked, they were still their greenish-golden hue. Letting go of his shirt with one hand, she reached up to touch his mouth. She wasn’t surprised at how soft it was - she’d often thought that his lips looked as if they would be pleasing to kiss.

Rumpelstiltskin woke. He blinked, lifting his head and taking a waking breath. His eyes crossed a bit as he found a very small Belle very close to his face. It took him a half second to realize that her hand was busy petting his bottom lip, and another moment to realize where _his own_ right hand was located. When he did, he jerked it away so quickly that it rocked the chair.

Belle grabbed tight ahold of his shirt to keep herself from falling. “Rumpel?” she asked, looking up at him.

He sounded absolutely humiliated as he began apologizing. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean- I would never have- I-”

“Rumpel…” she said again, shyly. “I’ve thought of something else you might do that would make me happy.”

His mouth remained open, and he stared down at her as if he’d gone mad, himself, when he wasn’t keeping track. Eventually he managed to close his mouth to swallow. 

“And what would that be?” he finally asked without much voice at all behind it.

 _Bravery,_ Belle thought, darting her tongue out to wet her lips. _Be brave._ “Unlace your trousers?”

Rumpel looked for a moment as if he were being propositioned by a gryphon. He seemed to process what she asked in stages. Fear. Doubt. Embarrassment. Lust. Fear surfaced again.

“Belle, you- you don’t know what you ask,” he choked out, quickly shaking his head. “You and I, we- we can’t-”

“Oh, I know we can’t go about it the way we could if I were my proper size,” she reassured him. “But I thought we might be able to…” She shrugged, at a bit of a loss, and reached up to touch his lip again. “To enjoy _something.”_

His eyes fell shut, and his sigh ruffled her hair. She smiled, leaning to brush her lips against his.

“What did you have in mind?”he asked weakly. 

She smiled, broad and bright. “Unlace your trousers for me.”

Rumpel allowed his hands to fall to his lap again, and he pulled open the slender leather string that held the front of his trousers closed. The lacings blared open immediately.

“Help me down,” she said, carefully turning so that she could slide down onto his hand when he lifted it for her. 

He rested his hand on his thigh so that she could step down. On surer footing, she held onto one of his fingers, picking up one foot and then the other to remove her drawers. She walked across the leg of his trousers, over to the straining front of them. 

“Take it out?” she asked.

“Belle…”

“Please?”

Rumpelstiltskin bit at the inside of his mouth. He could send her to her new living space in a little puff of smoke. He could take himself up to his tower workroom and lock himself in until he found a cure for this ridiculous curse that had been inflicted on Belle. Instead, he obeyed what she asked of him. He finished pulling the front of his trouser opens and untied the string at the waist of his underwear, laying them open, as well. His cock surged upward.

He averted his eyes from his own aching flesh and concentrated on Belle. As soon as she saw it, she blushed ten shades of red, and he thought perhaps she’d finally thought better of what she asked. When he started to pull his underwear over himself again, Belle swatted her hands at his.

“Don’t you dare,” she said, stepping closer when he rested his hand on his stomach.

Belle stood low on his abdomen, just at the base of his cock, so that she could have herself a good look. Slowly, she reached out to touch it, petting it at first. Even hard, the skin itself was soft, and though it was unscaled, it had the same greenish golden tone that the rest of him had. It was taller than she was, which both amused and intimidated her. Oh, she knew that he would never in a million years harm her, but this was far from the way she imagined first being in contact with a cock.

She slid her hands around its sides, stepping forward into the curling, light brown nest of hair around its base. She could barely wrap her arms around it. When she squeezed, she heard him suck in a sharp breath.

Belle pulled back just enough to hike her skirts up. She needed to feel him against her, at least, if she couldn’t have him _in_ her yet. She wrapped her arms around him again and pressed herself against his cock from belly to thighs. He was hard - so hard and impossibly hot, and every once in a while she could feel him twitch. She turned her head so that she could kiss below the head of it, and Rumpel whimpered from behind her.

She began to rub against him, making writhing motions with her body, trying to give him as much sensation as possible. She wasn’t sure how much she was actually accomplishing until something ran down over her elbow. Belle tilted her head to look. A rivulet of something almost clear, with a golden shimmer to it, had dripped down from the head of his cock. 

Rumpel’s breath was labored, gently rocking her with each inhale and exhale. From the corner of her eye she could see how his hand held onto the chair arm with a vice grip. He groaned softly, and she felt his muscles tense beneath her bare feet.

“Gods, Belle, you have to stop, I’m-!”

His gasped words were all the warning she had before he gave a sudden and wordless cry of pleasure and a flood of what easily could have been pure gold, judging by the way it shone and moved in the firelight, erupted from his cock. It ran quickly down the length, meaning that it ran quickly down _her._ It soaked her hair and covered her face, running down into the bodice of her dress and all the way through. There was another great spurt of come, and she could feel it, warm and slick, running between her breasts, down her stomach, and between her thighs before it poured down her legs. 

When his cock had stopped twitching in her embrace, she took a step back and her feet slipped. She sat down on his abdomen and wiped at her face. When Belle opened her mouth to say something, it at first ended up with no more sound than a startled, “Glurp!”

“Belle! Oh, gods, Belle, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-” Rumpel apologized frantically, pulling a handkerchief from thin air and dabbing at her in an attempt to clean her up.

She simply collapsed in giggles. It was such a ridiculous situation, but suddenly an enjoyable one, too. She licked at her hand. It wasn’t awful, the way she’d heard her lady’s maids say. It was briny, yes, but there was an earthy taste, and a hint of sweet beneath it. It wasn’t disagreeable.

She began to peel herself out of her clothing. Rumpel stared at her in shock, the handkerchief stilling as he watched her finish baring herself.

“Give me your hand?” she said, and he held it down so that she could climb on again. 

She draped herself over his hand, lying on her back and opening herself to him. She steepled her legs, resting her bare feet flat on his palm. A sheen of gold clung to her skin everywhere his come had touched her. She was sticky, and she was certain that would eventually become uncomfortable, but for now she needed him to do something, _anything,_ to her so badly that she didn’t care.

“Now, give me your hand…” Belle requested, grinning up at him.

After a moment of hesitation, Rumpelstiltskin hovered a hand over her body. He used his middle fingertip to stroke between her legs so, so carefully, using the golden fluid pooled there as lubrication. There was no aiming for the little bud of nerves that he knew was there but couldn’t see. He had to stimulate her more generally and hope that he was hitting a pleasant spot for her.

Apparently he was doing something right, because she began pressing her hips back up against his finger. She squeaked and her back arched, and she called out his name.

When the sensation became too much for Belle, she squirmed away, turning onto her side. There was so much more that she wanted, but this was good enough for now. She hoped that he could find a cure _soon,_ though.

He waved a hand over her, including her clothing and his lap, and everything was almost disappointingly clean again. Bringing her up his body, he held her near his face. 

“Belle, sweetheart…” he murmured, looking almost ashamed of himself.

She crawled closer until she could nuzzle her face against his cheek. “I know you’ll find some remedy for my… _condition._ But in the meantime, I suppose it isn’t as terrible as I initially thought.” She smiled and leaned, kissing his lower lip, relieved when he smiled beneath her touch.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first of four additional chapters of tiny!Belle, because I made a terrible deal with shipperqueen93...
> 
> [Prompt - _shipperqueen93 prompted: Belle needs a bath. So into the chipped cup she goes!  
>  shipperqueen93 prompted - PORN!]_

“No!” Belle squeaked, ducking behind a book as Rumpelstiltskin wiggled his fingers. “Not with magic!”

He gave the spot she’d been standing in a bewildered look and pulled the book from the shelf so that he could see her. “It isn’t as though you can have a bath in the tub, now, is it? Just stay still.”

She crossed her arms. “Absolutely not,” she said as she gave him the most stubborn expression that she could muster. “Do you remember how long it took me to get the static out of my hair after the last time?”

Rumpel’s lips twitched with a smirk as he recalled the way her hair had crackled and frizzed for days. She’d had to wear a kerchief to keep it even half tamed. “I’ve cleaned myself up with magic many a time and never had such a problem before.”

Belle gave his hair an obvious glance and raised a very small eyebrow.

“Now, now.” He gave her a perturbed look, more surprised at her insinuation than offended. 

“Let me have a bath the way I want, Rumpel,” she told him. There was a warning in her tone. “For goodness sake, is that not the simplest of requests?”

He gave a dramatic, longsuffering sigh. “Then what do you wish?” he asked. “Shall I bring you a bowl to wash in? A thimble for a foot bath?”

“Fetch a teacup,” Belle said triumphantly. “And warm water from the kettle. It should be cooled enough by now.”

As he turned on his heel to fulfill her request, she called after him, “And shave a bit of soap from the lump by the sink for me?”

Rumpel stopped, and without turning back, he gave a flourishing bow, flicking his hand outward at the end of it before continuing on. She covered her mouth with both hands to smother her giggle. 

His trip to the kitchen was prompt, and he returned with a cup on a saucer, carrying it carefully. The water in it still steamed a little - no more than her regular bath water might have. When he approached the table, Belle smiled to find that he’d chosen the teacup she’d once chipped.

Rumpelstiltskin stood by as she began to disrobe, and though he still felt a bit odd watching her strip down for her bath, he couldn’t look away. Despite her rather severe change in height, she was nonetheless perfect. The new conditions of their relationship did not make him unhappy, but he did lament the fact that they couldn’t precisely indulge in _all_ of the physical aspects of it they might have otherwise. He still worked at finding a way to reverse Regina’s absurd little curse.

Belle glanced up to find Rumpel blushing and blinking owlishly down at her. She turned away with a grin on her face and reached over the rim of the cup, swishing her hand through the water. It was hot, but comfortably so. 

“Help me in?” she asked.

He placed his hand on the table, palm up so that she could step onto it, and he lifted her until she could sit and slide herself into the water. “So,” he said, “is the water fine?”

“Mm,” Belle hummed. Standing, it just covered her breasts. “I would say you should come in, but…”

He snorted softly. “Might be a bit of a squeeze, there.”

“Just a little,” she teased before ducking beneath the surface just enough to wet her hair. “Did you remember the soap?”

“I am many things, but absent minded is not one of them.” He turned the saucer, giving her a bit of a spin as he took the shaving he’d placed on the edge. 

She reached up for the sliver of soap and asked, “Would you read to me while I bathe?”

“Your wish is my command,” he told her with a glint in his eye. He summoned her current book and sprawled himself in his chair, making a show of flipping through to the marked page.

Belle rubbed the curled piece of soap between her hands, working up a mass of bubbles, and set it to prop against the curl of the cup handle where it met the rim. While Rumpel read to her of a long lost princess and the kitchen boy who loved her, she washed her hair and then the rest of her. She knew that he watched. His reading trailed off, and she didn’t remind him to begin again. She simply enjoyed being the focus of his attention.

“Rumpel?” she said sweetly, drifting over to lean her arms on the cup’s edge.

He looked at her over the top of her book as though he hadn’t been staring. “M-hm?”

“Come here?”

“Ready to get out of your bath?” he asked as he set the book down, leaning forward. He reached out, offering his hand to help her. 

She grinned, wrapping her hands around his index finger. “Not quite…”

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and he allowed her to draw his fingers into the warm water. 

“Turn your hand,” Belle said, pleased when he did as she asked.

She pulled herself up onto his finger, situating herself to straddle the bend of it, and began to rock her hips. Judging by the gasp that she heard him pretend he didn’t draw, he was both surprised and appreciative.

Rumpelstiltskin watched, his leather trousers becoming more and more uncomfortable as Belle’s movements increased in desperation. All he could do was keep his hand still while she pleasured herself. He delighted in the small sounds she made as she worked herself against him - grunts, moans, whimpers, all that he had to strain to hear. 

Belle leaned forward, her arms encircling his finger and her head resting against his palm as she came. She writhed, shuddering as she reached the end, and lay almost motionless in his hand.

He lifted her from the cup, worrying that she’d drown in such a state if he left her in the water. Conjuring a towel just the right size, he draped it around her. He placed her on her tiny chaise and carried it near the hearth to keep her warm while she dried, taking her book along so that he might read her to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second of four additional chapters of tiny!Belle, because I made a terrible deal with shipperqueen93.
> 
> [Prompt - _shipperqueen93 prompted: Regina shows up unexpectedly and because rumple doesn't want Regina seeing tiny belle he magic her into a new little pocket on his pants. Belle creates hijinks. Possibly smutty ones.]_

The only warning that Rumpelstiltskin had was a shudder in the wards he kept on the castle. He had no time to explain to Belle before he transported her into his trouser pocket with a puff of smoke and banishing off to her library the small, Belle-sized things that had taken up residence on the dining table. Regina came stamping into the great hall, the long cape of her fitted jacket fluttering behind her and a towering rage evident in her features.

He rolled his eyes and spun to face her. “And here I was under the impression that royal etiquette included _knocking_ before barging into another person’s residence.”

The Queen snorted. “That would imply that you qualify as a person, wouldn’t it?”

“Careful,” he snipped, walking past her so that she had to turn to face him. “Much more of that and I’ll not hear whatever demands you’re all set to hand down today.”

Her mouth pinched into an irritated pucker, but she held her tongue for the moment it took between his admonishment and her asking, “I need a potion, a spell. Something devastating and painful, ideally.”

“And what, might I ask, do you need this ‘something’ for?”

“Snow White has been-”

“Snow White, Snow White, Snow White!” he mocked, pitching his voice high. “Learn another song, dearie. That tune is getting old.”

Regina gave him a sharp look. “If your magic was worth anything, I wouldn’t have to sing it again and again.”

“Have you considered that perhaps it isn’t my magic that’s the problem?” He sidled around to the other side of her, thinking of the curse she’d placed on Belle and bristling over it. “Perhaps the problem is the lack of talent in the witch that comes crying for it.”

The Queen spun to face him, eyes narrowed and a glint of teeth bared. “Watch yourself,” she threatened, a smile drawing her features tight. “An empty castle is none too happy to come home to.”

Magic tickled at his fingertips, begging him to let anger have its way. With clenched fists, he crushed it. Belle was in his pocket, and while the risk to himself from Regina’s magic was negligible, his little maid could be easily harmed. 

He lifted a hand and turned it palm up between his face and Regina’s, quite purposefully giving her a snout full of scarlet smoke as he conjured an intricately tooled leather belt.

“...A belt?” she sneered. “What am I meant to do, give her a hiding?”

Her retort brought him up short. He wondered for not the first time what sort of mother Cora had been.

“Place it in her belongings,” Rumpelstiltskin told her. He gave a languid gesture across the spiral of brown leather, his fingers waving. The magic glittered red and bright before settling in. “It will tighten itself with every instance of good she does. I expect that she’ll suffocate around noonish, hm?” He tittered, wrinkling his nose.

The belt would work just fine, but Snow’s princeling would rescue her in plenty of time. Charming would cut her free and they would set about some manner of failed pursuit. It was an easy vision to put together, that one. He couldn’t _actually_ allow the Queen to murder her step-daughter. He needed them all on a string.

Regina’s face lit up. She snatched the belt from his hand. “If this doesn’t work…”

“If it doesn’t work?” he snapped at her before spinning away. “Then you can-”

It was at that moment - in the split second between his dramatic whirl and finishing his suggestion regarding what she could do - that he felt Belle _shift._

He nearly stumbled mid-step, and he froze, thankful that he faced away from Regina. “You can figure out a torture of your own next time.”

“What is the matter with you?” the Queen asked just as Belle slipped lower and his posture went tense and ramrod straight.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he said. He turned back to her, straining to control his expression.

Belle slid halfway down his thigh, and he hoped that it wasn’t as noticeable as it felt.

Regina gave him a wide circle, eyeing him. “Have you been into the Wonderland potions, or some such?”

“You have what you came for. I invite you to leave just the way you arrived.” Rumpelstiltskin gave her a dismissive flick of his hand.

With a huff, and since she had what she’d intruded upon his home for, Regina left. It took every ounce of his restraint to leave Belle where she was until he felt via the wards that his visitor had truly left.

He moved Belle from his trousers to the dining table with a puff of magic, bringing her small furnishings back with the same gesture. She landed on her chaise with a bounce, giggling and falling to one side with her arms wrapped around herself.

“And what was the point of that?” he asked, still flustered.

It took a few moments more for her to sober enough to answer him. “There was a bit of loose stitching in the bottom of your pocket. I simply couldn’t resist!” she managed before dissolving into laughter again.

Rumpelstiltskin raised an eyebrow at her display. “What of the possibility that you could have alerted Regina to the fact that-”

“That what?” Belle asked, grinning. “That I was in your pocket, or that you were… getting a bit long in the trousers?” She successfully smothered a laugh, but a rather loud snort escaped her.

He frowned, not in the least amused. “That you’re the size you are!”

“She’s the one who did this to me in the first place.”

“I’d prefer her not know that I’ve not been able to fix her doings.”

“Oh.” With a sigh, Belle slid down to the surface of the table. “I’m sorry.”

He shrugged and turned his face away. “Ah. Well. It’s no matter now.”

She walked to the table’s edge, but he was just out of reach. “Come on, Rumpel. Let’s go back to what we were doing before we were interrupted.”

“And what was that?” he said, giving her a sidelong look.

“I don’t know about you, but I was giving serious consideration to a kiss.” She watched until a smile began twitching at his lips. 

When he turned his head to look at her properly, she beckoned to him, pleased when he leaned to rest crossed arms next to her on the table. She stepped over, holding onto the silk of his shirtsleeve to pull herself up, and stood on his arm. 

Belle beckoned again and he rested his head on his forearm, where she could reach. She leaned close and brushed her lips over his lower one. It wasn’t quite as satisfying as she’d have liked. She’d dreamed of much more, where kissing him was concerned. The smile he gave her, however, was worth every bit of trouble she found herself in.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The third of four additional chapters of tiny!Belle, because I made a terrible deal with shipperqueen93.
> 
> [Prompt - _shipperqueen93 prompted: So. Rumple has to go out for a deal, he can't put off maybe it has to do with his big plan, but obviously he can't leave tiny belle alone! So he has to take her with him. He makes her hide on in the collar of his jacket and she keeps talking to him during the deal and braiding his hair.] ___

“Ugh… Rumpel, slow down!” Belle clung to the stiff collar of his waistcoat, trying to will away the rolling of her stomach as they reappeared in yet another place.

Physically, she was safe. She was hidden between the collars of his waistcoat and leather overcoat, where nothing could harm her and no one could see her. If they didn’t take a few minutes to give her a breather, though, she was going to be sick right down the side of his neck.

He turned his head toward her. “Magical transportation didn’t have this effect on you when you were your proper size.”

“A lot of things changed with my size.” Belle groaned and sat down, nestling herself into the fabric. She pulled her knees up and rested her head on them.

Rumpelstiltskin frowned. He hadn’t considered that traveling via his puffs of smoke might bother her. He’d only worried about leaving her in the castle alone for a length of time. It might be days before he could return to the castle, and anything could happen to her without his knowledge. Any nasty and spiteful witch might have come calling and harmed her, and then he would have to change his future plans quite drastically, because said witch would be little more than a smear on the stone in that event.

“We’ll walk a bit here,” he said, lifting a hand to part the heavy grasses that lay between them and the road ahead.

“Thank you,” Belle said, and she went quiet for a while.

He knew precisely where they were, and he knew that there was a fine fresh water lake fairly nearby. Surely some clean, cool water would refresh his little maid. There were charms to counteract nausea, of course, but he was still too wary to apply much magic to Belle’s now very small person. Every bit of it that touched her after the curse set on her seemed to go awry in some manner. As for example, travel magic. It wasn’t as though he could traipse himself half the width of the realm in a reasonable time on foot, though.

They crossed the dirt road and he walked through another dense swath of tall grasses. Tiny, black grass seeds flittered from their stalks and attempted to stick to him, but he warded them off easily with a flick of his hand. When they emerged from the other side, he heard a distinct little, “Ooh,” from the vicinity of his shoulder.

It was pretty, he supposed. The sunlight glinted off the surface of the lake, making it seem a brighter and more cheerful day than it was. There were firetails growing here and there around the lakeside, and a small number of blue-white cranes fished for their breakfast at the opposite end.

“I am _not_ setting you down where something can lurch up and eat you,” he muttered before she could ask.

“I didn’t say a word about setting me down,” Belle said. “But you could hold me where I can see better.”

He lifted a hand to his shoulder, where she could step into his palm. Bringing her down where he could see her, she did seem a bit green about the gills.

“You haven’t been sick up there, have you?” he asked, his concern hiding behind gruff words.

Belle pulled a face at him. “Trust me, you’d know if I had.”

Taking her down to the edge of the water, he squatted down and dipped a handful. After sending a little charm past it to make doubly certain that it was clean, he offered it to her. 

“Here,” he said, bringing his hands close together so that she could reach. “Drink. You’ll feel better.”

Belle knelt down and gathered a few drops of water in her own cupped hands from his. It was icy cold despite the warmth of the day, and she felt her insides calm almost immediately. She patted her face with what was left on her hands.

“Feeling better?” Rumpel asked.

She sat down in his palm and squinted up at him, shading her eyes from the sun. “Yes, much.”

He shook the rest of the water from his hand. “Might you withstand traveling once more before we go back?”

“If I must.” She waited until he brought her back up to his shoulder before she stood, climbing back into her place between his collars. 

Rumpelstiltskin took them away once again in a puff of scarlet smoke. This time, they arrived at the edge of a small, seemingly ramshackle village.

“This is where you’re making a deal?” Belle asked with not a little disapproval in her tone. “You aren’t here to take advantage of someone, are you?”

He scoffed. “Hold your very small horses,” he said, adding an unnecessarily grand gesture to his words.

Rumpel walked toward the village, and upon passing a pair of run down hitching posts at either side of the path, the world around them seemed to shimmer and fall away. The village was replaced with a slightly larger but _far_ more lush little town that absolutely smacked of magic.

“Oh,” she said.

“‘Oh,’” Rumpelstiltskin imitated, and she could see the smirk in the corner of his mouth. “A glamour. A deception to keep visitors away. Who would steal from a village that can’t so much as keep itself standing?”

She leaned to look around as they made their way toward the square. “I get it. The town has its own wizard.”

“Most do, of one sort or another.” He swatted a hand in her direction. “Now, shoo. Hide yourself. We don’t want anyone to attempt dealing for you, do we?”

Belle patted his cheek and retreated farther back into his collars, where no one simply looking at Rumpel could see her. She stood, feeling more prepared on her feet, and held onto his waistcoat collar beneath his hair.

He approached a house with a patio made of round stones, a good half of it crowded with what were apparently offerings to its inhabitant. There were baskets of fruits and vegetables, one filled with what appeared to be felted yarn balls, and a bolt of fine linen among it all. Rumpel nudged a basket of pears aside with the toe of his boot and reached out, rapping quickly at the door. 

“Suppose the townsfolk think they’re buying favor,” he muttered.

A grizzled old woman, stooped and thin and virtually one great wrinkle, answered his knock.

“I wondered how long it would take you,” she said in a voice thick with amusement before turning around and going back inside. “Thought you’d be here around dawn. Dawdled, did you?”

He heard Belle titter somewhere behind his ear. “Oh, I like her,” she whispered.

“Probably eats children,” he said under his breath as he followed the old woman in.

“Nonsense. Children haven’t enough meat on their bones for so much as a pie,” the old woman said with a twinkle in her eye. “Now, imps? Imps make for excellent braising.”

Belle snickered again. 

“My name is Aphrah.” The old woman turned to look at him, backing herself up close to the hearth.

“How apt,” Rumpel snipped dryly.

“No need to introduce yourself. I know who you are. And I know what you’re here for. What have you to trade?” she asked.

“Anything you’d like,” he offered in his most tempting lilt, “I can make it yours.”

“Mm. That’s cheating, a bit.” She grinned, showing them a mouth absent most of its teeth. “Offer me some _thing.”_

“Good witch?” Belle whispered. “Bad witch?”

“Good, bad,” Aphrah shrugged. “All depends on how you look at things. Me, I’m as grey as my hair.”

Belle froze. “She knows I’m here.”

“A hundred and eighty-seven, and I can still hear a gnat light on my bananas, missy.” The old woman hobbled to a rocking chair nearby and plopped herself down. She looked to Rumpelstiltskin again. “Take your time.”

“A fine house,” he offered. “Enchanted to take care of your every need for as long as you live.”

Aphrah made a sound very much like ‘meh.’ She propped her feet up on the edge of the stone hearth. “I like my cottage here just fine. Whatever I may need finds its way to me. Try again.”

“Offer her a book,” Belle whispered to him again.

He twitched a bit at her slight breath behind his ear. “Companionship. Someone to keep you company - woman, man, neither or both - your choice.”

“I’ve more than enough company.” The old woman dropped her hand down by the chair’s side and an equally grizzled, long haired cat came slinking from beneath the bed on the far side of the cottage to butt its head under her hand. “And people, as well. Try again, imp.”

“A _book,_ Rumpel!” Belle said.

“Fine, fine,” he hissed through his teeth. “A book!”

Aphrah stopped her chair from rocking. “What manner of book?” 

“The Knight and His Lady,” Belle told him. “Offer her that one.”

Rumpelstiltskin held back a groan. That ridiculous novel. “The Knight and His Lady comes highly recommended, I gather.”

The old woman perked up, putting her feet down. She hummed and murmured to herself for a moment. “All right. That’s satisfactory.”

“It’s a deal, then.” Rumpel could hardly contain himself. He bounced on the balls of his feet as Aphrah stood and turned toward a set of drawers placed against the wall next to the door.

It took… a while. He stood, turning to follow her as she moved slowly around the cottage. Belle, apparently growing bored, began to fiddle with his hair. He felt the distinct patterns of her braiding a lock of it near the nape of his neck. It was twice as distracting as her whispers.

Aphrah rifled through everything, searching, turning more than one drawer upside down and searching beneath the stove at least twice. Suddenly she muttered an “Ah-ha!” and took a footstool from next to the window. She dragged it over to the front door and climbed up on it, reaching over the lintel and bringing down a quill that had seen far better days. 

She held it out, pulling it away at the last moment when he reached for it. “Ah-ah-ah. Where is my book?”

With an overdramatic sigh, Rumpelstiltskin summoned the novel from the castle. It appeared in his hand in a small puff of smoke that drifted right away. “Your book.”

Aphrah quite happily made the exchange. She waved a dismissing hand at them and went back to her rocking chair, cracking the book open right away.

“A quill?” Belle said after they’d gotten beyond the glamour that covered the town. “All that over a quill? Really?”

Rumpel patted his coat, where said object was tucked safely away. “A very important quill, I’ll have you know.”

He had the necessary squid ink, but he needed a very particular quill to write upon a certain enchanted scroll. There was a loophole that he needed to make sure was written in before it eventually hit another witch’s eager hands.

“Has your stomach settled?” he asked Belle.

She made a disgusted and reluctant sound. “I suppose. Only one more puff of smoke, right? And we’ll be home.”

“Only one more,” Rumpelstiltskin agreed. “There you shall be plied with tea and toast and all the books you desire.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fourth of four additional chapters of tiny!Belle bargained for by shipperqueen93. 
> 
> [Prompt - _shipperqueen93 said: Tiny belle prompt! Belle gives Rumple a blowjob and returns to normal size during the middle of it. But it's only a temporary fix._ ]

He’d gone looking for Belle to give her a present. Her own dress, the blue everyday that she’d been shrunken in, was worse for the wear. Rumpelstiltskin had taken it upon himself to provide her with another.

It turned out that sewing a dress in her size from average fabric was insufficient. Even a delicate weave was too thick, making a garment too heavy and ungraceful for her tiny frame. A dress sewn to size sat upon her like a dress on a doll rather than clothing on a person. Magic was required in the process, at least in part. While she slept and he did not, he sewed, then, a dress for the measurements she once was and then used his talents to shrink it down to her current size.

She wasn’t in the great hall, but that wasn’t a great surprise. His little maid had more rooms than one that she frequented. When he found her in neither library nor parlor _nor_ her own room, however, he found himself concerned. There were all manner of cracks and trouble that she could fall into at her size. He resorted to magicking himself to her location.

His wee little maid sat in the window seat in his own unused sitting room that preceded his bedchambers. For a moment, he felt as though he intruded. If she’d searched out such a spot, surely she wished to be alone. He was still looking from her tiny form to the tiny dress held in his hand when she spoke.

“Come and sit with me?” Belle asked, and he could no more refuse her than change the color of his scales.

He placed himself primly on the other side of the seat. “I have something for you.”

When she looked to him, he lay the little dress on the cushion near her. It was made of fine linen from dress to shift to underpinnings, and it was meant to drape upon her as a gown for the lady that she was. The dress itself was a more vibrant blue than her everyday, the bodice laced with a bit of his own golden string, the hem adorned with the same sewn into curlicues. 

She burst into tears.

“I’ve done it wrong,” he said, reaching to take the dress out of her sight. “I’ll make another.”

“No!” Belle swatted at his nearest finger. “It’s beautiful. Don’t you dare take it.”

He was at a loss, then. What were her tears for?

“Belle?” he said gently once they’d abated and she’d begun inspecting her new dress.

“What if I’m stuck like this forever?” she asked. 

It was a conversation they had entertained over and over these months. Her change in size had been as it was for nigh upon a year and he’d had no progress in undoing it. She might very well be thus forever.

Rumpelstiltskin took his time in answering. She was very serious and he wanted her to know that so, too, was he. 

“I will love you,” he told her, and it was the first time in three hundred some odd years that the words had crossed his tongue. “No matter your size, I love you.”

She looked up at him with starry eyes and lifted her arms to him. He lay his hand palm up so that she could climb on, bringing her nearer to him. When she motioned with her hands, he brought her nearer still.

“And I love you,” she said, pulling open the black lacing of her bodice.

He watched as she undressed, slowly dropping pieces of her frock off the side of his hand to land on the cushion with soft pats of fabric on stuffed fabric. In moments, Belle knelt there bare to her skin. She looked at him with her lower lip caught between her teeth as she sat, then leaned back, opening her legs to ask without putting her request into words.

Bringing her up to his face, he licked her. His lick up her torso and over her breasts made her squeak happily, and his lick between her legs brought a gasp from her. He gave her delicate licks with the tip of his tongue, getting the smallest tastes of her that made him wish for more. She trembled against his palm. 

He curled his tongue farther and she raised her hips, pushing herself up so that she all but rode it as he licked. Belle whimpered when she came, and he tasted more of her. 

As her puffs of breath evened out, she sat up again. “Set me down,” she told him, giving him the sauciest of grins. “And you, out of your clothes.”

There was a hesitation, he had to admit it to himself. It took him a moment to do as she said. With a flick of magic, though, he made himself naked for her. He set her down where she directed - on his thigh - and watched in wonder as she walked delicately across to his rather hard cock. It twitched when she touched it. Reaching out, he drew back the foreskin to help her along. 

Belle gave him a long lick across the head before she indulged herself in a bit of exploration. Her fingertips touched along the slit of his cock, probing into it, and he thought the sensation might just drive him mad. She stroked beneath the head with her hands, rubbing along the ridge and then the bit of membrane connecting the foreskin underneath, and he groaned.

Her mouth was a small point of heat when she licked and sucked at him. He closed his eyes, focusing on her touch and what it did to him, when he felt a shocking spark of magic right in his lap. 

She was surrounded by a cloud of something suspiciously fairy, twinkling, sparking bits of magic that fell away as she flickered up to her proper size. He had a sudden and gloriously Belle-sized Belle straddling his thigh.

“Belle!” he gasped, wide-eyed, and he wrapped his hands around her upper arms.

She laughed in surprised delight, but her own hands planted themselves on his chest to push him back. “No, I’m finishing this! We’ll celebrate later!” 

For the first time, she took him into her mouth. She sucked him, bobbing her head, humming happily as she pleasured him. It didn’t take long at all for him to finish. He’d never felt anything like her. 

His climax rushed through him, and at almost the same instant, he felt the fizzing, tickling of foreign magic again. Rumpelstiltskin’s eyes flew open just as Belle plopped into the puddle of shimmering gold come on his abdomen to sit. She sighed visibly, looking far up at him again.

“I’m sorry,” he said with a shake of his head as he gathered her in his hands.

Belle knelt up in one of his palms. “No need to be sorry. At least it was something.”

He summoned a gentle wave of magic to clean them both off before bringing her close to settle her against his chest. 

If he couldn’t break the spell on her by force, perhaps it was wearing thin on its own. They could only hope. Until any manner of solution presented itself, however, they would make the best of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (And thus, with this, my side of the deal is fulfilled. *longsuffering sigh* ;) )


End file.
